Arrows
by xfeathersx
Summary: "Daryl's the kind of guy who needs a hug, but if you try to hug him, he'll stab you." (I suck at summaries.)
1. Ten

Do you ever wish that you were trying to survive in an apocalypse? Like, "oh, that would be kind of fun! Like one of those T.V. shows or comic books, where the main character doesn't die." Yeah? Screw you. Here, take my place. You don't know how hard it is to survive in a world like this. You're alone in a city, a state, a _world_, filled with brain-dead, flesh-eating… _things._ The only thing I have to protect my ass is a screwdriver I found on the ground about a mile back. Do you really think that it's going to save me from _two _of those things, let alone five? Ten? Thousands? Millions? There are probably at least millions out there. So, let me ask you again. Do you ever wish that you were trying to survive in an apocalypse?

Because it's not fun.

* * *

The point of the screwdriver pierced the forehead of the corpse in front of me. It fell to the ground and dropped the keys in its hand. I sighed. How do you get used to killing people? How do you just forget about it? But they're not people anymore, they're corpses. The people they used to be are gone. The keys were small and attached to a chain. I picked them up and tried to fit them into the lock on the door of the house that the corpse probably used to live in. The lock clicked and I turned the handle. The door swung open without effort.

"Would you look at that," I muttered under my breath. I searched the whole house up and down. Left and right… you get the idea. There was only one room I hadn't searched yet. I stepped in slowly just in case there was a corpse in the room. I scanned the room and gasped as soon as I saw it. No corpse. Just a small recurve bow with a quiver of ten arrows lying next to it. "You gotta be fucking kidding me!" I laughed quietly and picked the quiver up.

Okay, maybe trying to survive in an apocalypse isn't THAT bad.

There was a small pocket which I dropped the screwdriver in. Might come in handy sometime, you never know. I picked up the bow. It was black, which was perfect. Imagine freaking walking around with a fluorescent orange one. You're basically ringing a dinner bell. "Corpses! I'm food! Come eat me!" From what I've seen, it seems like they can tell blacks, grays, and browns from orange. There were small wooden crates in the room that I searched, but all I found was a granola bar and a couple of pennies. Another crate was in the corner of the room, and I walked over to open it.

* * *

Right now, though, I'm going to tell you a quick story. Once upon a time, there was a girl who went into a room and _didn't close the freaking door._

******The End! ~**

* * *

I heard a creak behind me and turned around to see what it was. Thank god it wasn't a corpse, but it might as well be. Same thing, I'd just end up dead either way. A man holding a crossbow was aiming at my forehead.

"Drop the bow."

My body felt frozen and my feet were super glued to the ground.

"I said, drop the bow."

I set the bow down carefully near my feet.

"The quiver too."

My fingers felt numb, but they slipped the quiver off my shoulder and set it down, amazingly.

"What's your name?" The man asked. His voice was rough but strong.

_Delaynie._

"Layne." Alright, I've always wanted a nickname because I hated Delaynie and… it's a zombie apocalypse, okay? The world, my friend, has ended. No one gives a fuck if I change my name a little.

"Daryl."

"Okay. Can you just… lower that now?"

"Oh, yeah." He lowered his crossbow.

The two of us stood awkwardly in the room for a couple of minutes. A corpse limped into the room all of a sudden. "Daryl, behind you!" I barely knew the guy, but we were both trying to survive, and I wasn't just gonna let him die. He whipped around, and shot an arrow right though the corpse's skull as if it was no big deal. Like it was an everyday thing:

_"Hey, honey, I'm going out to shoot some corpses."_

_"Okay, don't be too long." _

"Oh, man…" I sighed. He just scoffed as if I was joking.

"Ain't you a princess. You never seen one killed like that before?"

"Yeah, I have, I just haven't gotten used to it."

"Well, now's the time to, because the world has _ended_, princess. Either get used to it or die. Your choice."

He walked out of the room and whistled. "You comin' or not, princess?"

I picked up my bow and quiver and followed behind him.

"My name is Layne."

_"Whatever."_

**~10 arrows remaining~**

* * *

Short one again, hahaha. Sorry (-~-) I don't think I'm going to continue "Scars," I'll just wrap it up soon. Thanks for reading! 3

_This is probably the only A/N you'll see in this fanfiction._


	2. Nine

**LAYNE**

"Princess" is the worst possible nickname to give to me. I mean, what kind of princess wears jeans and sneakers?

"Okay," Daryl said, as he started up a motorcycle. "Get on."

_Was he telling me to come with him?_

"I said get on, kitty cat. I haven't got all day."

"Kitty cat? Really?"

"Yeah. Princess kitty cat. Since you seem like you were raised in a rich home with lots of people waiting on you."

_Oh, you have no idea how wrong you are._

I shook my head and forced myself onto the thing and Daryl started... driving? Going? Motorcycling? I don't even know what you would call it.

"You know they're attracted to sound, right?" I asked.

Daryl sighed and nodded his head.

"So then why do you drive a loud ass motorcycle?"

He scoffed and shook his head.

I didn't want to talk anymore. All I wanted to do was have everything become relatively normal again. But it's not gonna happen. I'm still trying to let the whole apocalypse thing sink in, but it's not working.

I can't accept the fact that I'm afraid.

Afraid of what?

_{"_What am I afraid of?

That's a common question I have heard throughout my days. What truly scares me?

This is what scares me.

Not monsters. Not ghosts. Not impossibilities. I am afraid of the world in all of its honest terrors.

There is a lot of real horror in the world. The human mind being one of the scariest things on this green earth. Capable of the greatest things, and the darkest of any things any of us can think of.

It's nice to let go and feel a sense of fear from fictitious monsters and tales, but true moments of dread are all too common in our everyday lives."_} (-Cryaotic)_

Am I afraid of dying?

No.

Of pain?

Not really.

Of the actual corpses themselves?

I don't think so.

It's not monsters. Not ghosts. Not made-up stories we told as children.

**What I think I fear the most is reality itself.**

What it can do; what humanity can achieve and not achieve. We plunged ourselves into this apocalypse. And now we can't get ourselves out. Although I'm not sure how it started, I heard something about the disease being a scientific chemical failure that caused test subjects to lose control of their own bodies and have an uncontrollable hunger for human flesh. Maybe I'm wrong, but... it still scares me to know we got ourselves into this somehow.

And that this can actually happen. Not death, but resurrection AFTER death. Well, at least some fucked up form of it. People who used to have lives and families and friends. They're all gone. Trapped in a mindless corpse. But I wonder if they remember. Who they are, what they did...

Sometimes I even scare myself with the questions I ask.

Reality and Curiosity.

**Because curiosity killed the_ god damn cat._**

I think I like "Princess" better.

* * *

I didn't realize that I started to lean on Daryl's back when I was thinking.

"Ow! God damn it, stop!"

I jolted my head back and gave him a look like, "bitch, what's your problem?"

"That hurt you?" I asked.

He nodded. "I, uh, had to do some huntin' in the forest and I got scratched up real bad when I fell on a rock pile."

"Oh. Sorry."

Daryl sighed and he slowed his motorcycle down to a stop. "Here we are."

"Here? Where's _here?_"

"A farm. Don't come crying to me if your pretty little dress gets dirty."

I wasn't even wearing a freaking dress.

* * *

**DARYL**

_The scars on my back didn't even really hurt anymore. It's just reflexes, I guess. Princess Layne wouldn't even know how pain feels. _

_Pbfft. I bet she doesn't even know how to tie her own damn shoe._

_..._

_Why am I being so hard on her? I don't even know._

"Daryl!" Layne screamed as she loaded her bow. I turned around just in time to see a walker die. Again. She ran over and pulled the arrow out of its skull, but it snapped in half.

"Shit," Layne muttered under her breath. The girl looked up at me and raised her eyebrows.

"You okay?"

I scoffed and looked at her straight in the eye. "I'm glad I wasn't shot by your damn arrow. I coulda handled that myself, y'know. Like how I did back in that house."

"Excuse me? I just saved your ass! I don't get a thank you for that?" Layne crossed her arms.

"No. You don't. Why the hell would I say thank you? You almost shot my ear off with that thing!" I don't even know why I was angry. I think I was angry at my dad for having me lie to her about why my back hurt. And she was the only person around to take my anger out on.

And then I noticed she un-crossed her arms and looked down at her feet.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't..."

She shook her head and cleared her throat.

"So, a farm, huh?"

* * *

****_**"Shut up, Delaynie!"** My dad yelled as I tried to explain why I had slapped his shoulder._

**_"But dad, there was a bee-"_**

_**"I don't give a shit! I could have handled that myself! Why the fuck did I keep you? Your mother should have-"** _

_The tiny reasons my dad had used for excuses to get mad at me were stupid. But the one's that weren't stupid crossed the line._

**_"Mom's dead! Mom is dead, dad! You don't bring her into this!" _**_I screamed, trying not to talk about mom._

**_"She's dead because of you, Delaynie Aspen Parker!"_**

_I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't cry._

_It wasn't really my fault, was it? She was the one driving the car._

_But I was the one talking to her- distracting her._

_...Maybe I did kill my own mother._

**_"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't..."_**

**_"Sorry doesn't cut it, you piece of shit. Sorry does not cut it."_**

_I don't remember much after that. All I remember is how much my back stung and how many welts and bruises I had. There were 27. _

_I remember the smell of blood and my dad screaming at me and telling me how much I deserved it._

_And not to cry._

_But I did anyway._

**~9 arrows remaining~**


	3. Update

**Sorry it's been so long! I went to Canada to visit some family. There were some problems involved but everything's alright. I'll post another chapter soon. Thanks for being patient.**

**~mwah**


	4. Family

**LAYNE**

**(Sorry if it doesn't seem right, because Carl lived in Kentucky, Amy lived in Florida, and Carol... uh... Atlanta? *i think*)**

Daryl introduced me to almost everyone in the group. And there were some familiar faces I was glad to see. Others... not so much.

I went to school with Carl Grimes from kindergarten to second grade, then I was moved to a different school. "Nice to see you again!"

Although I really wanted to see him again, I didn't mean for it to happen like this. In a world full of walkers.

Andrea's sister, Amy, was my babysitter for whenever dad went out to gamble, or get drunk, or whatever.

When I asked Andrea where she was, she just looked at me like she was going to beat my ass and then left.

Weird.

But the person I remembered the best was Carol.

Her daughter, Sophia was my best friend growing up. Carol pretty much just took care of us when Sophia and I wanted to go play outside, or study, or something because Ed and my dad were out doing something. And either Amy couldn't, or we just wanted to give her a break from me.

I guess I could understand that. If I had to take care of myself, I wouldn't like it too much.

The first thing I did when I saw Carol was I ran over to her and hugged her.

She was my pretty much my mom. I'd call her Mrs. Peletier, but she just told me to call her 'Carol.'

I could feel her hug back and she didn't let go until Carl realized who I was and started talking to me.

* * *

**DARYL**

I introduced her to everyone and maybe she knew some people, or Carol was just being a mother and taking Layne because Sophia wasn't there with her.

Carl obviously knew her, because they started talking about kid stuff like it wasn't the end of the world.

All I could think of about right now, was:

a) How hungry I was, and...

b) Sophia.

* * *

Sorry bout the short chapter. Love you guys!


	5. Chupacabra

**DARYL**

When everybody started noticing Layne and asking how I found her, I'd just say:

"I found her while I was looking for Sophia."

Layne doesn't act like Sophia. In fact, she doesn't even look like her either. She's taller, probably older, and her hair is longer and darker. It was a brown that was almost black and reached the middle of her back. The only thing I could think of when I first saw her is that she needed to cut it. Walkers could grab onto that shit any moment and eat her brains.

But here I am again, about to look for Sophia. I was planning on going alone, but Layne said she wanted to come with me. I bet she just thinks we're going hunting.

Whatever. What's the worst that could happen? (You can basically READ the sarcasm dripping from that last sentence.)

* * *

**DARYL**

What the hell just happened...?

Yeah, okay, the horse... the snake... and now I'm (_LYING ON THE COLD HARD GROUND *goat scream*_) lying in a pool of blood. That's good to know.

"Shit..." Yeah, to be honest? I don't look so good. Don't feel too good either. There's a deep gash on my head and leg and my nose is bleeding. Probably cuts and bruises all over. I hear Layne groaning and I look over at her. Holy. Shit.

The arrow that was loaded in my crossbow somehow... slipped. The arrow pierced through her side. It was a clean stab straight through, but holy fucking shit.

"Daryl..." I can hear her trying to keep her breath steady. Obviously it's not working. I don't know what to do. Hell, I don't even know what to say.

"Hey, calm down. Don't move, you're making it worse." Alright. Good enough.

She seems like a turtle flipped upside down and now it can't get back up again. I feel sorry for her. It's a weird feeling.

"Can you get up now?" I grab her hand and slowly help her up.

We're going to need to bandage that thing. Or stabilize it at least, so it doesn't move around so much.

I ripped off my sleeves and tied it around the arrow.

"What are you doing?" Layne asked me, in a softer voice than usual.

"I'm making it so it doesn't hurt too much when you move around."

Layne got up and walked around a little. She was quiet for a minute, and then looked up at me. "Thanks."

"It didn't work, huh?" I asked her.

"Nope."

God damn it.

"We're going to have to pull it out."

"What? No, I-" She jumps back and falls back on the ground, pushing the arrow further. She winces like a small puppy and it makes me flinch a little.

"Okay, Daryl. Pull the arrow out... Just make it fast, please."

I nod and grab onto the shaft and start pulling slowly. I know she said fast, but if I do that, shit's gonna turn out even worse.

Being a young girl, I'd expect her to start crying. Tearing up, at least, but no. This fucking girl didn't tear up once.

The arrow was finally out and I untied my sleeves from the arrow and secured them around the wound so it wouldn't bleed out.

I started feeling dizzy and I realized that I still had that gash on my head.

Jesus.

The world's a bitch.

* * *

I woke up on a moss bed looked around to take in everything that just happened. Layne was stabbed by an arrow, I probably passed out. Wait, _Layne._

"Layne! Where the hell are you? Layne!"

My head still hurt, but I didn't give a shit. I saved her life, and she just left me here to die? Bitch didn't even say thank you!

"Layne! Layne!"

"Hey, brotha, you're being so loud. Give up already?"

_No way in hell. _"Merle?"

"What's this? You're just taking a nap while the world's suffering? My, my. A true Dixon."

"Man, fuck you, Merle."

"Would you like me to get you a pillow? Maybe rub your feet a little?"

I shook my head. I was too tired to say anything.

"Or how about I get you a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers?"

I was relieved to see him, but at the same time I wanted to shoot him in the balls.

"Now, there's no reason to get all sassy, Darlene."

Merle moved closer and closer to me. He smelled rotten and dead, like... like a walker.

An arrow came out of nowhere and shot "Merle" in the face.

_It was Layne._

"Daryl," she yelled. "Are you oka-"

I didn't think. I didn't care about the fact that my head was still hurting, and I was not in the best condition to be doing this, but I jumped up and tacked her.

She was screaming at me to stop.

"Daryl! What the hell? Get off me!"

"No! You left me here to die! I saved your damn life and you didn't thank me! You just left and a damn walker almost feasted on my brains! What the hell was that, Layne? Why'd you leave?" I didn't give her time to answer. It was in the heat of the moment so I took my knife out and jammed it into the ground.

Now, I meant the knife to _miss_ Layne. Instead, my hand jolted to the left a bit and I nicked a part of her ear off. (Just a really tiny bit, guys. Don't freak out.)

"Daryl! Stop!" I knew that voice. It wasn't Layne's, or Merle's.

* * *

**CAROL**

I couldn't believe what I just saw, really. I mean, if you asked me to explain it, I couldn't. I really wouldn't even try. There's no words for this kind of thing, you know?

"Daryl! Stop!"

He looked up at me and tried to calm down.

"Why the hell are you here?"

I nodded towards Layne, who was crying underneath him. "She asked me to help. She told me you passed out and she had no idea what to do."

"Why'd she ask _you?_" Daryl asked, grabbing the knife and pulling from the soil.

"I have no idea."

I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at Layne who was still crying.

"Hey, Daryl, you should get off the poor girl. She has enough to deal with already."

"Yeah?" Daryl looked up at me like he was daring me to do something. "So do I."

"I know, Daryl, just... please get off of her and come back to the farm. You should have Hershel check that head wound of yours."

I was worried about them. I know Daryl was looking for Sophia. Her not being with Layne when she came back means they didn't find her.

I shook my head and headed back to the farm hoping they'd follow.

* * *

**DARYL**

"What the hell was that for?" I screamed at Layne. "You could have just stayed here and waited until I woke up!"

"I didn't know, okay, Daryl? I was scared, and I was worried that you were dead, because I tried to listen for a heart beat and I couldn't hear one! I'm sorry!"

I was mad. Not at her, but at myself for making her cry.

And you know what I did?

I picked her up and shoved her back on the ground. She got up and started to run away, but I grabbed onto her shirt and it ripped across the back.

I'm a horrible person. I know that.

I saw the scars on her back and I knew what they meant. I'm not stupid. Of all people, I should know what they mean.

They're worse than mine.

_(If you haven't watched the third season, you might not understand that part... Sorry... ^^^)_


	6. Welcome Home

**DARYL**

"I.. I'm... I'm sorry, I..." God damn it. Why did I have to do that? Carol's right, she does have enough to deal with already.

I was at a loss for words.

If I didn't have scars on my back, I would have given her my shirt. But, I also only ripped up the back, so I handed her a backpack that would cover everything.

I nodded at her as if I understood everything. She nodded back as if she was confirming it.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea."

She shook her head and got up. Every step she took made me cringe. How would someone be able to walk after getting impaled by an arrow? Much less _survive?_ If that girl had blue eyes and reddish-brown hair, I'd mistake her for a Dixon.

I grabbed her hand and we walked the whole way back to Ol' Man Hershel's farm. Layne; that girl is a hell of a tough nut.

We walked a couple miles.

"Are you okay?" I ask, suddenly worried about her.

She nods. Obviously she's not.

"Do you want me to carry you?"

She shakes her head. She hasn't talked since I ripped her shirt. Which makes sense. I wouldn't want to talk to myself.

We finally reached the farm after maybe an hour of walking silently.

I spotted Andrea on top of the R.V. yelling something I couldn't make out.

Rick, Glenn, T-Dog, and Shane all ran up to us. Rick was aiming a gun at our heads.

"Oh my god, is that Daryl?" Glenn asked.

They're probably thinking we're walkers. Layne squeezed my hand and I squeezed back, letting her know it's okay.

"That's the third time you've pointed that gun at my head, Rick. Aim at something else."

He moved slightly, but didn't lower the gun.

"Well, pull the trigger."

I saw him lower the gun, but a bullet whizzed an inch away from my face. The small hand in mine slipped from my grip.

Rick was yelling.

Glenn was having a panic attack.

T-Dog stared in disbelief.

Shane was looking around for the person who shot the bullet.

I didn't even want to look. Why?

Because there was a really good chance Layne was dead. A dead, cold body that would soon turn into a walker.

And I didn't want to be the one to put it down.

* * *

Is she dead? She's not dead. She can't be dead. Where did the bullet hit her?

I open my mouth to ask these questions, but all that comes out is a gasp.

"Daryl. Daryl, listen to me. Daryl!" Glenn was yelling at me.

"Is... is she dead?"

He shakes his head. "We don't know yet. The bullet hit her shoulder. What happened to you guys? Why does Layne have so many cuts on her back?"

_Lie. Lie, Daryl. You're good at it. _"She slipped and got scratched up on a rock pile. I'm fine, though. Is she gonna be okay?"

Glenn eyes me suspiciously, then nods. "She'll be fine." The Chinese kid sucks at lying, but he's good at seeing through them. I swear, he's like a walking lie detector.

Layne won't die.

She won't.

Right?

* * *

***3 hours later***

**LAYNE**

Why the hell am I in a bed?

"Daryl? Daryl?" I try to sit up, but I can't. It hurts too much.

"Layne? Holy shit." It was Daryl. I feel arms wrap around me. I'd hug back, but I was laughing too hard.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because I'm _alive,_ Daryl! I'm alive. And, also, this is the first time you've ever called me my own name."

I could see Daryl was surprised, but as I was expecting, he'd reply sarcastically.

"What, princess? I couldn't hear you over the sound of your laughing."


End file.
